


Bedtime Story

by Llaeyro



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Age Play, Community: hp_may_madness, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Infantilism, M/M, Naratophilia, Praise Kink, Rimming, Spanking, Teacher/Student Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:06:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6741982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llaeyro/pseuds/Llaeyro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"But I wanted THAT one.", 'Narratophilia' and 'blue' from Day 2 of hp_may_madness.</p><p>
  <a href="http://llaeyro.livejournal.com/30111.html">Read on LJ</a>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bedtime Story

“But I wanted _that_ one…” Draco whined petulantly.

“Now, now, Draco. I don’t _have_ you read you a story at all,” Severus warned, closing the book to emphasise the point. He was sat in the chair on Draco’s side of the bed, one ankle resting across the other thigh, causing his knee to jut out slightly over the bed. Draco’s hand rested upon it, duvet tucked up under his armpits, white-blond hair falling softly over the pillow.

“But—!” The interjection was cut short by a pointed look from Severus.

“Draco…” Severus sighed, “Disobedient boys do not get bedtime stories.”

“Fine,” Draco pouted, shoulders drooping in defeat.

Severus lowered his voice. “I thought you wanted to be my good boy, Draco…”

Draco looked up at him with wide, grey eyes, bottom lip caught between his teeth. He nodded.

“Very well, then. We will be reading ‘ _The Detention_ ’ tonight. If you are well behaved, we can reread ‘ _The Naughty Step_ ’ tomorrow.”

Severus cleared his throat as Draco shifted in the bed, getting comfortable.

“Your footsteps echo along the dungeon corridor,” Severus read, “You draw your cloak tighter around yourself against the chill, telling yourself that is the only reason for the slight tremor in your limbs as you approach his private quarters. ‘Why should I have to put myself out for the convenience of a careless miscreant?’ he had rhetorically asked you, before giving the date and time that he would be expecting you. You feel a tightness in your chest, a chill running down your spine. You feel vulnerable, as you do not know what to expect. You have noticed the way he looks at you; that he uses any excuse to have you bend over before him. Your feet have stopped. His door is before you. You are still trying to find the courage to lift your fist, to knock on the door, when it swings open.

“He stands before you, scowling face framed by long, black hair. His lack of bilious teaching robes catches you off-guard. You were not prepared for form-fitting trousers and a lazily buttoned shirt which hangs untucked on his lean frame. As he steps aside, silently permitting you entrance, you are struck by the uncomfortable heat of the room. It’s stifling, exacerbating the tightness in your chest. ‘You may remove your cloak, if you wish,’ says the voice from behind you—surprisingly close. Now that you are inside, you can see the fire blazing in the hearth, the only light source in the small sitting room-cum-study. A book lays open on a table beside the armchair, next to a glass of amber liquid. Despite your misgivings, the heat is causing you to feel light headed, so you reluctantly slip out of your cloak. He takes it from you abruptly, just short of snatching it, and hangs it upon a hook behind the door. He motions you over to the desk.

“There is the briefest of hesitations before you do as bid. He is a tangible presence behind you; crawling up your spine, into your nerves. ‘Hands upon the desk,’ he orders, ‘Feet apart… Further.’ You comply, taking a deep, steadying breath. This is familiar territory—you know you can handle what is coming. Or so you think, before he speaks again. ‘Drop your underwear, then resume the position.’ His breath tickles against the shell of your ear and you can’t hold back an audible gasp but you daren’t disobey.

“When he rucks up the back of your robes, exposing your pale behind, you are grateful for the warmth of the room. His rough hand palms your buttocks, squeezing just a little too hard before he steps away, your robes falling back into place. You hear a rattle across the room, but you would have to remove a hand from the desk to look, and you suspect that is what he is hoping for. A swish sends a foreboding weight into the pit of your stomach, matched by the contrasting arousal starting to build in your groin. You try to tell yourself that you won’t enjoy it. You try to tell yourself that you hope he doesn’t touch you, afterwards. You know you are lying.

“He is behind you now and without any warning, he lifts your robes and cups your testicles. It is so unexpected, but you fight to keep still, to keep quiet, to not give him the satisfaction. His hand moves boldly forward, wrapping his fingers around your half erect cock. You do gasp this time, you simply can’t help yourself, and a soft moan escapes your lips as he strokes you from root to tip before letting his hand fall away.

“Your head drops to the desk in frustration. You want to keen back, to try and find contact. You consider rutting against the polished wood of the desk, but you refrain. You know what comes next, and it comes quickly.”

Draco jerked nervously, breath catching as Severus slapped his own thigh for the sound effect. Severus put on an affectionate smile.

“Are you not reading your part tonight, darling?” Severus asked, “You know you’re supposed to count them. Feeling sleepy, are we?”

“Not yet, just read a little more. Please.”

“Alright.” Severus holds up the book once more. “It is little more than a tap, a test, to warm his hand and enjoy watching your flesh ripple with the impact. He is pulling at you now, re-positioning you. You shuffle back, hands still on the desk, underpants still around your ankles. He angles your hips,causing your back to arch uncomfortably. He arranges your robes across the small of your back, freeing his hands and keeping your arse exposed to his hungry stare.”

Severus glanced down at Draco, as he had done throughout, but this time Draco caught his gaze. “Actually, can—can we sleep now? I’ve heard enough story for tonight.” His voice was quiet and breathy.

Severus smirked. He had noticed Draco starting to squirm—a sure indication that he was hard already.

“You cannot simply give up mid-story, it is getting to my favourite part,” Severus said as he peeked over the page, smiling fondly. Draco pouted in response, arms folded in a grump. “Very well,” Severus sighed, “Perhaps we could skip ahead, just for tonight.”

Draco grinned triumphantly, before his features slipped to something rather coy. “Can we skip to the begging?”

Severus smirked knowingly. “Most certainly not,” he reprimanded. “We shall pick it up after the spanking.”

“I think you enjoy this far more than you let on.” Draco was eyeing him shrewdly.

“This is _your_ slightly unhealthy fantasy, Draco, not mine.” As much as Severus had gotten on board with exploring their age dynamic as a kink, he still stood by his refusal to let Draco call him ‘Daddy’. 

“So you say…”

“Now that the final number has left your lips, your backside is stinging, burning, tingling. He rubs his calloused hands over the abused flesh, nails raking unforgivingly, kneading hot handfuls. You want him away, but at the same time, you don’t. You want him to touch you. Your cock is hard and leaking onto the desk. Hot breath joining those hands and a soft thud from behind tell you that he is on his knees. He’s still kneading and spreading your cheeks and you know that he must be able to see _everything_. Part of you is ashamed, wanting to cover yourself, hide and never show your face again. A larger part wants to spread your legs, beg him to touch you, to press inside you, anything.

“He pushes your cheeks wide, and there’s warmth pressing against you; there’s smooth skin and there’s stubble rubbing against your red arse, then something wet rasps across your hole. It’s wet and firm and sends tingling shock-waves straight to your cock. You choke out a moan, pressing back greedily towards that mouth, desperate for more. Desperate… for _me_ …”

Draco groans loudly and Severus looks down to see his hand making its way under the duvet.

“Draco, this is your only warning.”

“Please… I can’t take it anymore, I need it, Severus—I need you…”

“I haven’t even put my tongue inside you, yet. Then there is your rather enthusiastic but unsophisticated attempt at a blow job. And don’t forget my rather detailed and embellished description of slowly thrusting my cock into you for the very first time.”

Draco gave a pleasant shiver. “Please, Professor.” Draco affected an overly desperate disposition as he quoted the book from memory, kneeling on the bed and grasping at Severus’s arm desperately. As he knelt up, the duvet fell from his lap, revealing his straining erection. “Please… I’m so… I want—I _need_ you inside me. I can’t wait any longer, _please_ , Sir, fuck me. I’ll be your good boy, Sir, always, whenever you want, just, for the love of Merlin, _fuck me_!”

It was a pity really, Severus thought, that Draco was begging him so falsely. With the script, it didn’t thrill him in the same way as when Draco was truly desperate. Not like the times when Severus had taken him to the edge again and again without letting him tip over; when Draco would give up asking nicely and resort to screaming and swearing, turning the air blue and calling Severus truly dreadful things. Such accusations would leave his lips. Severus was glad his mother could not hear the things Draco had implied about her on numerous occasions.

It could yet happen that evening. After all, the night was still young.

“As you wish.”

_Fin_


End file.
